


teeth and lungs (with cool air to soothe them)

by dxvr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Training, Duelling, M/M, Making Out, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxvr/pseuds/dxvr
Summary: " If Harry knew how Draco had been pining after him for the three months he’s been training to be an Auror, if he knew how his eyes follow Harry in the breakroom, and in the showers, and in the elevator on the way to the lobby after they’ve been doing paperwork and Harry stretches and shows off a patch of skin under his shirt that’s ridden up... "





	teeth and lungs (with cool air to soothe them)

**Author's Note:**

> just a little thing! i really like the auror trope (even if i think harry should've been a teacher smh) so i decided to write this today. it's unbeta'd since it's so short, so i apologize for any errors!

Potter really has him backed into a corner now.

 

He grits his teeth and throws up another Protego before Potter can knock him down, but it’s too late. He can see the embers in his eyes ignite as he shouts “Flipendo!” and sends Draco flying through the air. He hits the mat with a thud and for a second, all he can see are stars until he notices the hand in front of him. He grabs it, and, Potter helps him up to his feet. Draco stands, eyes squeezed shut and face burning. This is the fourth time in the past month that he’s lost a duel to Potter, and it seems that no matter how fast he dodges his attacks or how much power he tries to put into his voice before he jinxes Potter, he always ends up on his arse. Somehow, none of the other Auror interns sign up to duel with the  _ famous Harry Potter _ , probably worried they’ll end up like Malfoy, constantly bruised and groaning.

 

“Malfoy, erm, can you let go now?

 

Draco’s eyes fly open and, horrified, he realizes that he has yet to let go of Potter’s hand that helped him up. He forces his hand open and whips his arm back before Potter can get any thoughts about his intentions, and sneers at Potter before stepping back.

 

“Maybe if you hadn’t knocked me ten feet into the air, I wouldn’t have needed help getting up. Don’t you have any control, Potter?”

 

Potter’s face grows dark as he glowers and retaliates, “Don’t you have any power, Malfoy? Maybe I wouldn’t have to help you up if you could beat me onc--”

 

Malfoy rapidly meets his eyes with his own glare, but he can feel the tears behind his eyes threatening to break though.

 

Potter’s face falls as he realizes what he’s said, and his eyes flit to the side, looking at the empty room. The rest of the interns have left to shower, having gone first and saving the inevitable Potter/Malfoy duel till the end.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, I’m--” Potter’s hand flys up to grab at his hair as his gaze shifts onto Draco’s face. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I know it’s hard to duel me and you do have power, you really do, you don’t know how hard it is sometimes to break your shield and--”

 

Potter continues to blather on, but by this point Draco has taken to staring into his eyes with his mouth in a little o, because Potter is standing right in front of him, getting himself into a twist about a rude comment to Draco, and he’s- he’s _ complimenting _ him and it’s all a little too much for him. If Harry knew how Draco had been pining after him for the three months he’s been training to be an Auror, if he knew how his eyes follow Harry in the breakroom, and in the showers, and in the elevator on the way to the lobby after they’ve been doing paperwork and Harry stretches and shows off a patch of skin under his shirt that’s ridden up, he’d be looking at Draco with disgust instead of remorse. So he interrupts Potter before he can get too carried away and say something they’ll both regret.

 

“Honestly Potter, do you always throw yourself over everyone’s feet the moment you think you’ve gone too far? We’re not friends, and you don’t have to fucking apologize so you can go home and feel good about yourself.”

 

With that, he whips around and heads to the showers. He’s knows it’s a cowardly move, but he hides under the stream of water until all of his anger has slipped down the drain.

 

*o*o*o*

The next time they duel, Harry lets him win.

 

Draco doesn’t exactly have any solid proof of this, but Harry’s reactions are slow and sloppy like he wants Draco to hit him. When his wand flies through the air and lands in Draco’s palm, his clammy fingers clasped around the sturdy wood, the room goes silent. The interns surrounding the practice mat look at each other for a second before moving in to clap Draco on the back or elbow his side for ‘finally learning how to duel,’ before moving to wash off. Draco is frozen to his spot on the mat, his startled eyes continuing to stare, mesmerized, at the holly touching his burning skin. He suddenly looks up to find Harry right in front of him, with sheepish eyes and an outheld hand. As if moving through water, he deposits the wand into Harry’s open palm, shivering as their skin meets. The air in the room is suddenly gone, leaving only the crackle of energy between the two. Harry’s gaze turns bright and warm, his cheeks pink.

 

Draco knows he must look a mess, with sweaty skin and a panting breath, but he couldn’t quite care less at the moment, because Harry’s hand has just found his and the touch of fingers against fingers leaves his mind a blank slate. He almost doesn’t hear Harry’s voice, rough and needy under his breath.

 

“Draco…” He sighs before repeating, “Draco, can I--”

 

But he’s already nodding furiously, hair bouncing frantically off his forehead and his eyes never leaving Harry’s.

 

Harry slowly moves in, as if he thinks Draco might yank back, but how stupid would he have to be to leave when he’s finally getting what he wanted? The voice in the back of his head is screaming at him that they shouldn’t be doing this at work, in a public room where anybody could walk in, but he can’t find it in himself to care, because Harry has just taken to caressing of the back of Draco’s neck. Their lips finally -finally- meet, and his eyes close while their mouths find each other.  

 

It’s awkward at first, it always is, but they eventually find a rhythm. Harry’s fingers begin combing through his hair, and Draco moans into the kiss. Harry tenses up before pulling away, eyes hot and lusty.

  
  


“As much as I enjoy doing this, because I really,  _ really _ like snogging you, do you want to continue this after our date tonight? I don’t think it’d do well for us to get caught in here, kissing like teenagers.”

 

Draco’s eyebrows scrunch up for a moment, because he doesn’t remember scheduling any dates with Harry, and then--

 

“Pick me up at six?”

 

“I’d love to.”


End file.
